Reclaiming the Crown
by Sadistic Fox
Summary: Tommy wants to move some operations back to Liberty, so he takes out the leaders of all the major gangs down there. Please R&R. Very bad language, so beware. FINISHED
1. A Massacre

Ok, because of the storyline of the games, some of this couldn't happen, because Salvatore was still alive in GTA III etc etc. I realize this, this is just my own little bit of fiction. Please review it, my email is in my profile, drop me a line, even if its just to tell me how much I suck. My aol sn is dizzydave560, please feel free to send me an instant message anytime. I hope you enjoy reading this fic... I WILL continued this, so if you like it, don't worry. (I hope such people will exist)  
  
On October 25, 1992, Tommy Vercetti called a meeting. He called the leaders of the gangs in Liberty City. The Leone family, the Triads, the Yardies and the Diablos. Most of them were enemies, Vercetti was perfectly aware of this. He wanted Liberty for himself. What better way to do it than to take out the leaders of all the gangs? He planned to do just that. It had been three months since he called the meeting. Today would be the day. Vice City was boring Vercetti, he wanted to move back to his old stomping grounds in Liberty, or at least run some things down there. The meeting would be held in the Malibu, Salvatore Leone had demanded it be a public place, and the other leaders agreed. Tommy happily agreed, he didn't give a shit if innocent bystanders saw them getting murdered, he didn't care about casualties. He just wanted the leaders of the Liberty City gangs dead. Tonight it would finally happen.  
  
"Tommy, it's time." Ken Rosenberg said as he stepped into Tommy Vercettis office.  
  
"Yeah, I'm ready." Tommy said as he double checked his two chrome berettas in his jacket. "Are all the guys there? Is everything in place?"  
  
"Yeah Tommy, everything's ready." Rosenberg replied.  
  
"Good, listen Ken, I don't want you anywhere near the place when it happens. I need a lawyer and you're no good to me dead." Tommy said as he walked out of the office.  
  
He stepped into the back of his limo and waited as his chauffeur drove towards the club. They drove for what seemed like forever, Tommy was growing impatient. Finally they pulled up in front of the club, the music from inside was booming. Tommy walked inside, look around for a few seconds, and then spotted a table with four familiar people sitting at it. Salvatore Leone, Mitch El Burro, the Yardie leader known only as Jamal, and the Triad leader whose name Tommy didn't know.  
  
Tommy walked over to the table and sat down. "Greetings gentleman."  
  
Tommy smiled to himself as he reminded himself of Don Vito Corleone from 'The Godfather'.  
  
"What the fuck you smiling at?" Jamal asked impatiently.  
  
"Shut your face jungle bunny." El Burro shot back.  
  
"Gentleman, please. Act civilized." Tommy said, trying to stop the fight before it happened. He was unsuccessful.  
  
"Don't be calling me a jungle bunny you prick!" Jamal yelled.  
  
Salvatore Leone interrupted, "Listen to him, we came here to talk business, not rip each others throats out."  
  
The triad leader sat back in his chair, sipping his whiskey and ignoring the bickering.  
  
"Anyways, I called you all down here for one reason." Tommy said.  
  
"What do you want? It better be good, I better not be wasting my time coming all the way out to Florida." Jamal said back angrily.  
  
"Oh it's good..." The bartender quietly went upstairs, getting out of the way from what he knew was about to happen, Salvatore saw him and immediately realized what was about to happen, but it was too late. Tommy began laughing, but stopped abrubtly as he pulled out his beretta and blew a hole through Jamals head. His blood sprayed the Triad leader in the face, he sat stunned. Salvatore quickly stood up, as he did so several standing on the side of the clubs pulled out uzis and began firing rounds into Salvatores body. He convulsed as the bullets pounded into his body, bits of flesh flying off and blood spraying the walls behind him, he fell backwards onto the table, dead. El Burro attempted to dive behind a table, but Tommy shot him in the side before he landed. The men with uzis began firing into the Triad leader, as he sat there, still stunned. The impact threw him backwards into the wall, the bullets kept him pressed up against it, they continued shooting at him until their clips ran out. His body slid slowly to the ground, leaving a trail of blood going down the wall. El Burro was groaning as he lay on the floor clutching his side where the bullet had entered. Tommy walked up to him, aimed his gun at his head and fired, splattering his brains and blood onto the carpet. It all happened in little more than a minute, people were screaming in horror and running as fast as they could out the door, survival being the only thing on their minds. A few people were trampled by the frantic mob of people. Then everything was quiet, Jamals body had fell forward face first onto the table, his blood was oozing out of his head, the Triad leader lay propped up against the wall, his body filled with holes, Salvatore was sprawled out across the table, his body also riddled with bullet holes, and El Burro lay beneath a table with a bullet in his side and one in his head. Two people laid in the middle of the dance floor, they had been trampled to death.  
  
"Well, I think that was successful." Tommy said to himself, smirking.  
  
The bartender came back downstairs and looked around. "Jesus Tommy."  
  
The bartender picked up a large bottle of Jack Daniels and chugged it. 


	2. The Cipriani Rubout

"Great Tommy! Great, it's great. The leaders are taken out, we're homefree!!" Rosenberg paced back in forth and talked a mile a minute, still very hyped up after the line of cocaine he had just snorted.  
  
"Calm down Ken, we're not homefree yet. We still have the second in commands, and the major officers to take out." Tommy replied, snorting a line of his own.  
  
The cocaine had never acted on Tommy like it did on Rosenberg. He still felt the adrenaline rush and the burst of energy, but he could still think and function properly. He didn't babble like an idiot either.  
  
"Tony Cipriani, he's next. Pack up you're bags Ken, we're going to Liberty City!" Tommy said happily. It had been years since he'd been back. He looked up to realize Ken didn't hear a word he said, he was too busy muttering something about ducks and rabid groundhogs.  
  
After further thinking, Tommy reconsidered and decided not to take Rosenberg with him. It would be dangerous down there and he wouldn't risk losing his lawyer. Deep down inside, Tommy knew he didn't want to lose his friend either.  
  
Later that day Tommy prepared for his flight to Liberty, he would bring 10 of his men with him to help out. Tommy was enjoying this, he hadn't had any action like this for months. He missed the high speed chases and escaping death everyday.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------  
  
Later, while on his plane, Tommy shifted nervously in his first class airplane seat and looked down at Liberty City below him. He was anxious to get out of this plane and get down on the ground. First he'd visit some of his favorite restaurants, then check into the best hotel in town. He'd find some nice wheels. Then he'd get down to business, Cipriani would die, as would the second in command for the Triads, the Yardies, and the Diablos. It would not be clean, it'd be a mess. Because of security most of them would have to be in public, where security was less.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------  
  
Later that night, Tommy sighed as he realized it was time to get back to work, he had had a great time revisiting his favorite places in the city. He had it all planned out, Cipriani would be leaving his house to go to his favorite club, 'Sex Club 7' that night, he always did on Thursday. Tommy would gun him down in the street, in front of his mother. Sure it was cruel, Tommy didn't care. He had heard that Cipriani was a pedophile, he slept with little girls. Tommy hated people like that, and would make sure he got what he deserved.  
  
Tommy changed into black cargo pants and a black jacket to match Liberty City's dark atmosphere better. He loaded his M60 machine gun into the black sentinel he would be riding in. He climbed into the backseat.  
  
"Drive." He ordered the driver.  
  
They pulled up across the street from Cipriani's place and waited for him to come out. They waited 10 minutes before Tommy began to get impatient. He began to wonder if Cipriani would even be going to the club tonight. 15 minutes, 30, 45. Finally he came out and headed toward the blue Karuma parked in front. Quickly Tommy opened the door and ran to where he could face Cipriani. He aimed his machinegun at him.  
  
"Bye Toni." Tommy said smiling.  
  
"Holy shit, no! NO!" Cipriani screamed.  
  
Tommy squeezed his finger down on the trigger, spraying bullets into Ciprianis body, the bullets went through his body and into the car behind him. Blood sprayed all over the street and the car. Cipriani was literally being ripped apart by the bullets, pieces of his flesh were flying off. Toni's mother had run out and was screaming in horror as she watched her son being mutilated. Blood sprayed out of Ciprianis mouth and his eyes rolled back in his head. His leg was completely severed by the bullets and it fell to the ground, the bullets still held the rest of his body up against the car. Finally the clip ran out. Ciprianis bloody crushed, ripped body fell to the ground, blood dripping off of the car and formed little rivers rolling off into the sewer. Ciprianis body fell on its side, the head was so riddled with bullets it burst open as soon as it made contact with the ground. The blue Karuma had turned red, the blood was like an extra coat of paint. Tommy didn't feel a bit squeamish.  
  
Tommy immediately thought about Sonny Corleones death in 'The Godfather', but then wondered why he kept thinking about that movie. His thoughts were interrupted as Ciprianis mother ran down to his corpse.  
  
"Toni! Toni!!!" Ciprianis mother screamed in her horrible squawking voice, "You bastard! I'll kill you! I'LL KILL YOU!"  
  
Tommy drew his beretta aimed it at her. He fired one shot into her stomach and quickly ran back to his car. He dove in.  
  
"Drive! Now!" Tommy screamed at his driver.  
  
He didn't think he killed the mother, he had only shot to wound. He never knew whether she lived or died, but he did know the hit on Cipriani had gone successfully. He'd now dump the car and his guns into the ocean, to get rid of evidence.  
  
He heard police sirens, he had to move quickly. 


	3. The killing continues

"Who's next on the list boss?" One of Tommy's body guards asked him.  
  
Tommy was searching through police files, looking for all the information he could find, "His name's Joey Leone, Salvatore's son."  
  
"Salvatore had a son?" The guard asked.  
  
"Yeah, some mechanic downtown. It shouldn't be hard to get in there. There's no security, only a few select people know who he is. Until now. Let's do this one mob style, I'll walk in and say I need my car worked on. Eventually I'll reveal who I am, then you guys bust in and gun him down, I don't want to do this one myself, I need a break after Cipriani." Tommy said.  
  
"You got it boss." The guard turned around quietly and walked off.  
  
The next day, Tommy stepped out of his car and walked into Joey Leone's garage. He looked around, searching for somebody. He spotted two feet sticking out from under a car.  
  
"Hello?" Tommy called out.  
  
Joey rolled out from under the car on his mechanics creeper. "Hey, can I help you?"  
  
He had a very thick italian accent, and he was covered with grease.  
  
"You look like someone I used to know." Tommy remarked.  
  
"I get that a lot." Joey said as he walked over to his clip board. "So what's the problem."  
  
"Salvatore Leone! That's who you look like." Tommy said with a grin.  
  
"Yeah, he's my father." Joey muttered. "Now can I help you or are you just gonna talk all day?"  
  
"Where's Salvatore now?" Tommy asked, still smiling.  
  
"He's dead." Joey said simply, "Now what's the fucking problem!"  
  
"Right right, I remember. I ordered him to be killed in my nightclub in Vice City!" Tommy said, his grin getting bigger.  
  
"Vercetti!" Joey yelled.  
  
He reached for a pistol inside his coveralls, but Tommy's men all flooded in the front door and aimed their machine guns at Joey.  
  
"You prick, I'll kill you, I swear..." Joey growled.  
  
Tommy turned around and walked out of the building as the men opened fire. Joey screamed as all the bullets hit him in various parts of his body, blood spurted from his mouth and his right forearm fell completely off, his leg hung by a single strand of flesh. His body was ripped to shreds, similar to Ciprianis death. The gunmen quickly ran off into different cars and sped off in different directions. Tommy calmly walked into his car, not having seen him die.  
  
"I've got a meeting with a Vincent Angelo. He's a loyal gun for the Leone family, it would help if he was out of the way. He stays in 'Salvatores Gentleman Club', the place by the beach. Salvatore took pity on him and let him have a room there. Let's go now." Tommy said as he polished his chrome beretta.  
  
10 minutes later they were in front of the gentlemens club, he spotted two men in black suits with slicked back hair guarding the door. He ordered his driver and another guard to take out everyone, but leave Vincent to him.  
  
They stepped out of the car and walked up to the front door.  
  
"You got a membership?" One of them asked.  
  
"Yeah." Tommys driver said as he pulled his beretta out of his shoulder holster, fired a shot into the mans head, Tommys other guard pulled his own gun out and shot the other man. 3 more men with slicked back hair and black suits came running out of the building. They saw their men laying on the ground dead, they all drew their pistols, but were all dead before they could fire a shot off. The blood gathered around them in a pool. Then Tommy saw his driver stagger backwards, bullets began entering his body from some unseen location. The driver screamed in pain, still staggering backwards, he backed up until he fell off the edge of the balcony. He hit the rocks below him with a loud crack. Tommys other guard was shot multiple times, his blood sprayed all over Tommys shirt and face. Vincent Angelo stepped out of the club, his uzi barrel smoking.  
  
"You killed Don Leone you bastard!" Vincent yelled as he threw down his empty gun and grabbed Tommy by the throat.  
  
Vincent was a huge man of about 6'4', his hair was slicked back like the rest of the guards and he wore the same black suit the rest of them wore. Tommy tried to reach for his beretta, but Vincent grabbed it and tossed it over the balcony. He proceeded to punch Tommy in the face four times, breaking his nose, and busting his lip.  
  
"Fuck!" Tommy yelled as he struggled against Vincent's grip.  
  
Vincent actually lifted Tommy off of the ground and began to squeeze harder. Tommy gasped for breath, but Vincent's closing fingers cut off his air supply entirely. Tommy went for his switchblade, quickly he pulled it out and shoved it into Vincents belly. Vincent screamed and dropped Tommy. He clutched his stomach as blood spurted out of it. Tommy kicked him in the side, knocking him over.  
  
Vincent tried to crawl away. He looked down at his stomach to see a grey rope of intestine hanging out. He gave a sobbing horrified sound. How had Vercetti done this to him? Had gutted him. He tried to hold his guts in but they kept slipping out of his hands. Blood poured out of his stomach like a bath water faucet. It felt like raw gasoline had been poured into his stomach and lit. He collapsed, the blood still flowed.  
  
Tommy walked over to him. He smiled down upon him after seeing his intestine laying on the ground. Viciously he stomped on it.  
  
Vincent gave a chilling blood curdling scream as his intestine ruptured underneath Vercettis foot. He just wanted to die so the pain would end. Tommy hoisted him to his feet and pushed him towards the edge of the balcony. Vincent hit the railing and flipped over it. He was impaled by a sharp rock in the water.  
  
Tommy quickly ran to his car, started the engine and sped off. 


	4. Diablo Dirtbag

Alright, you guys asked for 'The Guy', I'll give you 'The Guy'. :-D Enjoy this chapter and PLEASE help me with the title.  
  
Tommy sped away from the gentlemen's club as fast as the car would go. His anger was boiling, two of his men were dead and his favorite beretta had been thrown into the ocean. He slammed his fist down on the steering wheel in anger as he heard sirens approaching.  
  
"Could anything else go fucking wrong?!" He screamed at himself.  
  
He was pissed, really pissed. He slammed on the breaks as he saw the cops pull up behind him. He punched a hole through the glove compartment and grabbed his spare pistol. He opened the door and stepped outside, the cops were all pointing their standard issue 9mms at him.  
  
"Drop the gun and put your hands in the air!" One of them shouted.  
  
Tommy didn't feel like toying with them, he raised his gun and fired. The bullet entered the cops mouth and exploded out the back of his head, spraying his windshield with blood.  
  
"Jenkins!" The cop next to him yelled as he saw his friend laying dead with a hole in his head.  
  
Tommy fired at him as well, hitting him in the throat. The cop staggered back against the car, choking on his own blood. Tommy fired another shot into his chest, he fell limply to the ground. The rest of the cops recovered from their shock and began firing at Tommy, he dove behind his car and fired from underneath it. He hit a cop in the kneecap, shattering it, causing the cop to sprawl out on the pavement. He fired another shot into a young cop, hitting him squarely in the chest. Tommy stood up, fired a last shot into the cop clutching his shattered knee cap, and started walking away. But then he quickly turned around and shot another bullet into the young cop, who had still been alive and about to shoot Tommy in the back. All the cops lay dead in the street. Tommy spotted a Diablo stallion off in the distance, quickly he ran up to it, pulled the driver out and threw him to the ground. He shot him in the head before he could get up. He hopped in his car and sped off. The Diablos blood formed a pool around his body.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Tommy sat on his bed in the hotel room, his men were all gathered together at the other side of the room.  
  
"Santos. Jose Santos, he's El Burros right hand man. I snatched a Diablo car, so it shouldn't be hard to get to him. I just gotta get a disguise..." Tommy was telling his guards. "Find me a Diablo disguise."  
  
One of his men, Nick Cortez, immediately nodded and walked out the door. Nick was Tommy's good friend Colonel Cortez's son. Tommy had given him an important job as a favor towards Cortez, but Nick had turned out to be a very handy person.He was very tough and an excellent marksman, he was able to use any sort of gun very well.  
  
A few hours later Nick returned with a Diablo uniform, he was gasping for breath, but appeared unharmed. "I had to blow some spics head off in the street for this man!" Nick said with a smile. "I left the body in his car and sent it to the crusher."  
  
"Good job Nick, thank you." Tommy said as he grabbed the uniform. Minutes later he emerged from the bathroom dressed as a Diablo. "How do I look?" He asked smiling, he slipped on his sunglasses headed towards his car.  
  
He drove through Portland, searching for the Diablo headquarters. Finally he found it, he looked around at the cars in the parking lot. There were several Diablo stallions, and one single silver Banshee with a racing strip down the middle. He assumed it was Santos's. Impatiently, he waited. And he waited, and waited. For over and hour he sat in the car, snorting coke occasionally, and smoking a cigarette ocassionally. Finally he spotted a Diablo, his uniform was similar to the rest, but it was mostly black. The bandana was black, the jacket was leather with flames on the back. He had a large revolver on a holster on his belt. Tommy laughed at its cheesiness.  
  
Santos stopped in front of the drivers side of his car, he reached into his pocket, fishing around for his keys. Quickly Tommy started the car, the engine roared to life. Santos looked behind him at Tommy. Tommy shoved his foot down on the gas pedal, Santos was frozen in place. He shrieked in horror as he saw the car speeding towards him. Tommy smashed into Santos, crushing him between the two cars. Santos looked stunned, he coughed up a massive amount of blood. Tommy slowly backed up and got out of the car. Santos laid there groaning, blood was pouring out of his mouth.  
  
"What a horrible tragedy!" Tommy said with a smirk. He gave Santos a sharp kick to the ribs.  
  
Santos screamed, more blood splattering out of his mouth as he did so. He tried to mumble some words, but was unsuccessful. All of his ribs were snapped in half, a few stabbed into his lung. His breathing became more and more painful, and he had to struggle to get air.  
  
Tommy watched him dying with a grim satisfaction. Finally Santos's head fell limply forward, he was dead. Tommy ran back to his car and sped off, feeling lucky he hadn't been destroyed by Diablos. He was making good progress in his quest to take over Vice City.  
  
His thoughts were interupted as he felt his tire blow out from under the car, the car skidded out of control and smashed into a bus stop. Tommy looked around and saw a man in a leather jacket and green cargo pants with spiked up black hair walking towards him, a gun pointed at his head.  
  
"Great. JUST FUCKING GREAT!" Tommy yelled out loud. "Who the fuck are you!"  
  
The man said nothing, he just opened the car door, his gun still pointed at Tommys head, pulled him out, and threw him to the ground. Tommy layed flat on his back, staring into the barrel of the mans gun. The man waved his gun to the side, indicating he wanted Tommy to throw his gun to the side. Tommy did so reluctantly.  
  
"Fucking say something." Tommy said angrily.  
  
The man just smiled and moved some sort of hand sign. Three men got out of the van the man had pulled up in. They hoisted Tommy to his feet and began dragging him towards the van. 


	5. A Traitor

Tommy looked around inside the van. "Who are you people? You working for the Leones? Diablos? Triads? What?"  
  
One of the men looked at him and laughed, "We don't work for none of them people you idiot. We work for one person, the boss. He don't work for no one but himself."  
  
The silent man in the leather jacket and cargo pants sat behind the wheel driving. Tommy assumed he was just another one of the hired thugs, he didn't suspect in the least that he was 'the boss' the man spoke of.  
  
"What do you want from me then?" Tommy asked, still fuming with anger.  
  
"You're tearin apart our city, we can't have that. It's bad for business, very bad." The man replied.  
  
"This will be my city, not yours!" Tommy yelled, he tried to reach for the mans gun, but he was held back by two more men.  
  
"Don't make this difficult!" The man yelled.  
  
Tommy settled down into his chair. "Where you taking me?"  
  
"Shoreside Vale, to HQ." He replied.  
  
"If you're going to kill me, I suggest you do it now before I have time to kill you all." Tommy said calmly.  
  
The men in the van laughed except for the driver, who remained silent, as if he couldn't hear any of the conversation. He never looked away from the road. Finally the van pulled to a stop.  
  
"I can't risk you struggling while we're getting you into the house, so goodnight." The man pulled his gun out and clubbed Tommy in the face. His world immediately went black.  
  
Tommy awoke tied to a chair. He heard voices around him, slowly he lifted his head and surveyed the room. Directly in front of him was a desk, sitting at it was the silent man who had been driving the van. Standing around the desk were three men, one of which Tommy recognized as the man who had clubbed him. He heard one of the other men calling him Lance. Lance was a clean shaven man, around 40 years old Tommy guessed. He had messy brown hair and a long scar above his left eye. He was wearing a black suit, as were the other two men. The man sitting at the desk still wore his leather jacket and cargo pants. Lance looked at Tommy.  
  
"And he awakes!" Lance said sarcastically.  
  
Tommy struggled against his ropes, they were too tight, barely enough slack for him to breath.  
  
"Where the hell is this 'boss' you talked about!" Tommy yelled in anger.  
  
The man sitting at the desk stood up. Slowly he walked over to the chair and bent down, so he was face to face with Tommy. Then he raised one finger and pointed at himself.  
  
"You're kidding, this guy is your leader? What a fucking joke!" Tommy spat in the mans face.  
  
The man grabbed Tommy by the throat and squeezed hard, cutting off his air supply. With the other hand he hit Tommy in the face. Tommy felt his nose break, the blood began to gush out of it. Three more times the man hit him.  
  
Lance laughed. Tommy stared through the blood on his face at him, at that moment he knew he was going to kill him.  
  
"You better kill me now, I swear you better kill me now!" Tommy struggled against the ropes again, they began to dig into his wrists.  
  
Lance ignored Tommys words and walked over to him. "Who are you?"  
  
Tommy knew what to tell them, perhaps it would make them respect him more. "The Harwood Butcher."  
  
Lance began to laugh, the other men in the room joined in. Except for 'the boss;, his face reamained as stern as ever. "Who are you?" Lance repeated.  
  
Tommy spat in his face. "I fucking told you."  
  
"You fucker!" Lance screamed as he wiped the spit from his face. He quickly pulled out his gun and pressed the barrel up against Tommy's forehead. Quickly the boss reached out and grabbed Lance's gun. He shook his head, indicating he didn't want Tommy dead yet.  
  
Lance put his gun back into his jacket. "You're not Tommy Vercetti."  
  
"Who the fuck else do you think I am? Some vigilante out for justice? I don't give a fuck about justice! This city is not yours! It's mine!" Tommy tried to lunge out of his chair, but the ropes still held him back. His wrists were dripping blood now.  
  
The boss shook his head and pointed to himself.  
  
"This is his city." Lance growled, dying for an oppuritunity to hit Tommy again.  
  
Instead, the boss walked back to his desk and picked up a small whiskey glass. Quickly he drank the contents and walked over to Tommy. He grabbed his head in one hand and shoved the glass into his mouth with the other.  
  
Tommy tried to spit the glass out but he wasn't fast enough. He was hit by a fierce uppercut, the glass shattered, the pieces of glass made several openings inside of his mouth. Tommy spit out as much of the glass as he could, blood poured out of his mouth. The boss smiled, turned around, and left the room. Lance smiled.  
  
"Not so fucking tough now are you?" Lance asked mockingly.  
  
Blood ran down Tommy's chin as he tried to mumble. "You fuck... you stupid fuck..."  
  
Tommy looked up as he heard the door open again. He didn't believe who he saw. Standing in the doorway, holding a baseball bat, was Nick Cortez. 


	6. Tommy's Escape

"Hello Tommy." Nick said as he walked into the room.

"I'll kill you Nick, I swear I will." Tommy said, more droplets of blood sprayed out of Tommy's mouth as he spoke.

Seconds later, the door opened again and Colonel Juan Cortez walked into the room.

"You to? You're both dead men!" Tommy yelled, struggling against his ropes again.

"I'm... I'm sorry Thomas." The Colonel said, the grief in his eyes was real.

"No you're not! You know it! I did all those favors for you, I went out of the way to do all those stupid errands for you and you go and stab me in the back like this! I should have let those french bastards kill you when I had the chance!" Tommy screamed, ignoring the searing pain inside of his mouth.

"Shut it Tommy!" Nick swung his bat into Tommy's stomach, knocking all of the breath out of him.

Tommy gasped for breath. The Colonel turned his back away from Nick. Nick swung again, this time at Tommy's head. A huge gash formed above Tommy's right eye, more blood poured down his face.

Nick was about to swing again, but the Colonel stopped him. "Stop, I didn't agree to this. I wanted to do what we're being paid to do, and then leave. Beating him to a pulp wasn't part of the deal!"

"Fuck off Cortez!" Tommy screamed. "Don't try to show sympathy now! You stabbed me in the back, thats all there fucking is to it! Don't try to make it look like you care! Go ahead! KILL ME!"

"Thomas I-" The colonel tried to speak but Tommy cut him off.

"I want you to do it! Give the fucking bat to him Nick!"

Nick look unsure, but Lance grabbed the bat from him and put it into the Colonel's hands. Lance smiled.

The Colonel look around helplessly.

"You heard him, do it." Lance said, aiming his beretta at Cortez.

The Colonel dropped the bat and quickly drew his own beretta, aiming it at Lance. "No. I'm sorry Tommy, I know you can't forgive me, but I'm sorry."

The Colonel fired into Lance's chest twice. Lance was stunned, he dropped his gun in shock and fell to the ground. Two red splotches on his white shirt spread, growing larger and larger. The Colonel quickly aimed at one of the other guards and fired 2 more shots into his head. The remaining guard fired a shot at Cortez, hitting him in the arm.

Nick looked on, shocked.

The colonel turned his gun to the remaining guard and ended his life in a burst of bullets. Blood spurted from his arm as he walked to untie Tommy.

"What the hell are you doing pop!" Nick said, finally speaking up.

"I can't do this to him! He was my friend!" The Colonel replied.

"Fuck!" Nick ran out of the room.

Tommy stood up slowly after the ropes were untied, he was a bit dizzy from the loss of blood. He walked to Lance's body and picked his gun up. "Thank you Colonel."

"No problem Tommy..." The Colonel said wearily.

"You realize what I have to do, don't you?" Tommy said sadly. He walked up to Cortez and pressed the barrel of the gun up against his forehead.

"I understand. Do it." The Colonel squeezed his eyes shut.

Tommy fired a bullet into Cortez's head, his lifeless body fell to the ground. Tommy picked up Cortez's gun and walked out in the hallway.

To his surprise it was empty. Tommy began walking towards the set of stairs at the end of the hall. Then all of a sudden a guard ran up the stairs screaming, he was swinging a crowbar wildly. Tommy put two bullets into his chest and watched as he fell backwards and rolled down the stairs.

"What the hell was that?" Tommy asked himself.

He began walking down the stairs, guards began swarming around the dead body at the bottom. Tommy fired into the crowd randomly, several of them were killed, but many remained. Tommy felt the searing pain of hot lead ripping into his right arm and his left hip. He tried to ignore it for the moment and kept firing into the crowd. Another bullet entered his abdomin.

"Fuck!" Tommy screamed as he kept killing more guards. Finally they stopped returning fire, the smoke cleared and Tommy saw that they were all dead, their lifeless corpses littered the floor. Tommy limped down the stairs clutching the bullet hole in his stomach.Then he spotted Nick Cortez, on his knees with his hands in the air.

"Please forgive me, please! Don't kill me, don't! PLEASE!" Nick pleaded.

Tommy raised his two guns and fired two bullets into Nick's skull, spraying the floor with brains and fluids. He limped to the door, the guards were dead. Nick spotted a patriot parked in the small garage, he slowly limped over to it, he didn't know how long he could stay conscious, he hoped long enough to get to a hospital. He could only hope that the doctors could be bribed into not telling the cops that a high profile gangster from Vice City had just come in with multiple bullet wounds. Tommy found the keys already in the car. The engine roared to life as the key turned in the ignition. Tommy pulled out of the driveway, wondering what happened to the silent guy who had supposedly been in charge.

5 minutes later, Tommy pulled up in front of the hospital. He sluggishly stepped out of the car, still clutching his stomach and limping slowly. He tried to walk towards the door, but fell to his knees.

"Fuck... Come on Tommy... You can do this." Tommy muttered to himself as he attemped to crawl the remaining distance to the door. He collapsed, unable to go any further. He looked through the glass door and spotted a nurse running towards the door.

"Get a stretcher! Now, we got a wounded man outside! Hurry!" The nurse ran up to Tommy. "Are you ok sir? Can you hear me."

"Just patch me up, I'll pay everyone who sees me in there fifty thousand dollars to not tell anyone about this." Tommy said faintly. The world went black around him as he passed out.


	7. Firepower Restocking

Tommy limped out of the hospital hours later, every point on his body burned with pain. But he ignored it, he just kept thinking about how he had never heard of this silent ruler of Liberty City. Tommy's mind completely forgot about the Triads, the Diablos, the Leones and anyone else. His mind was concentrated on this new foe.

He sat down onto the seat of the stolen Patriot and started the car. He wasn't really sure where to go, he couldn't go back to his motel room, for all he knew his other guards were traitors as well. The only weapon Tommy had left was his switchblade, his guns had been taken when he was captured. He slowly brought the blade out of his pocket and flipped it open. The sunlight reflected off the blade with a beautiful glimmer, beautiful for someone as dead set on revenge as Tommy was that is.

He threw the car in reverse and headed towards and old friend's.

30 minutes later, Tommy pulled up in front of 8-Ball's bomb shop. He stopped the car and stepped out, he made his way to the back of the small building. He rapped on the rotting wood door three times and waited.

Seconds later, the door opened a crack and a bald black man peeked out of the crack. He was wearing a blue and white football jacket and black cargo pants. At the sight of Tommy he opened the door all the way and smiled.

"Well I'll be damned!" 8-Ball yelled. "Tommy Vercetti, standing on my fucking doorstep."

"Haha, nice to see you 8-Ball, been a long time huh?" Tommy replied casually.

"Damn right man, 15 years!" 8-Ball noticed Tommy's blood stained bandages and the stitches above his eye. "Shit man, what happened to you?"

"One of my men turned on me and decided to play baseball with my skull."

"That bastard, but knowing you he didn't make it out alive, right?" 8-Ball smiled slightly as he said this.

"Dead as Dillenger." Tommy replied, giving a smile of his own.

"Come inside man, have a drink." 8-Ball beckoned Tommy inside of the building.

Tommy walked inside and looked around. The room was a musty, dark, moldy room with old brown carpet and a small television with rusty rabbit ears on top of it. To the right of the door was a small kitchen with a dark green refrigerator. To the left of it was an old rusty stove with uncleaned pots resting on top of it.

"Nice place." Tommy said sarcastically.

"Thanks." 8-Ball replied, obviously not noting the sarcasm.

8-Ball walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, he reached inside and produced a bottle of Wild Turkey whiskey. He walked over to the sink and pulled out two glasses from it, Tommy found himself wondering if the glasses had been cleaned in the last six months.

8-Ball sat down as he handed Tommy a glass, Tommy sat down on an old couch in front of the television.

"So, how's business been lately?" Tommy asked.

"Business hasn't been all that good, not since Salvatore made the obituaries. But I don't mind too much, I hated that old man. Say, he died in Vice City, you wouldn't have had anything to do with that would you?" 8-Ball smiled.

Tommy laughed. "Yeah, I didn't want him around anymore. I thought I should move some of my operations up north, and he'd only get in the way."

"Your a trip man, you really are." 8-Ball downed his glass of whiskey in one gulp, Tommy took one sip of his.

"Listen, 8-Ball, I need some firepower, can you hook me up?" Tommy asked, setting his glass down on the small coffee table in front of him.

8-Ball suddenly began speaking faster, "Hell yeah I can hook you up, anything you need brother, machine-guns, uzis, 9s, explosives, anything!"

"I'm gonna need a few uzis, one machine gun, and a few pistols. How much will it run me?" Tommy asked as he sipped his whiskey again.

"$20,000 dollars and it's all yours. I'll even throw in some grenades for free." 8-Ball said as he stood up and walked into a room towards the back of the small building.

He returned with a small silver metal case. He carefully laid it down on the coffee table and opened it. Inside was a chrome colt .45. It was a beautiful gun.

"I'll take it." Tommy said flatly.

"I knew you'd like that one brother,but that ain't nothing compared to the other shit I got." 8-Ball went back into the back room and came out with more cases, in less than an hour Tommy had all the guns he wanted.

"I really appreciate this man, you have no idea how much I needed this." Tommy shook 8-Balls hand, and then turned around to go to his car. In the back seat were several gun cases stacked on top of each other, in the floorboards there were cases of ammo for each gun, and in a black metal case, were 10 grenades.

Tommy put the silver colt .45 in a shoulder holster, and then put his jacket on over it. He then started the car and backed out of 8-Ball's drive-way.

He headed back to Shoreside Vale.

Well here's the new chapter... Hoped you liked it. I apologize for the lack of action, and the long time it took me to update. I think my writing's gotten a little better since my last chapter, don't you think? But next chapter will have more action, I promise. I know that normally someone would be out of commision for weeks if they suffered injuries like Tommy's, but he's one bad mofo so he can take it right? BWahaha.... Anyways, enjoy...


	8. End of the Line

Tommy drove slowly to avoid police attention. He couldn't risk anyone seeing him again. The drive seemed much longer than it actually was. Tommy couldn't help but smile. Despite all the horrible things that had happened, Tommy was pleased to get action like this again.

He slowed his car to a stop as he waited for the section of the bridge that seperated Staunton Island from Shoreside Vale to come back down so he could cross.

"Come on..." Tommy murmured to himself as he listened to the toll bell ring over and over again, "Come on!"

He tried to get ahold of himself, to calm down and learn to be more patient. Finally the bridge was crossable again, he let his foot off the break and continued cruising to 'The Boss's' mansion. Liberty City was meant to be his, it was ALWAYS meant to be his. Back in the days when he worked for Sonny Forelli, he had always planned to off that fatass and take the city for himself. That was until he got thrown in prison for multiple homicide. Somehow he had gotten out after serving only 15 years, he still didn't see how that was possible.

Sooner than he realized, Tommy was only two blocks away from the mansion where he had previously escaped death by inches. The Shoreside Vale projects were operating normally; high end cars drive to and fro; people sat comfortably in their mansions while people just across the bridge sat uncomfortably in their ratty apartments and cardboard boxes; the occasional fight broke out in the streets. Shoreside Vale may be the upscale part of Liberty City, but crime was still strong there.

Tommy turned around and searched the cases of guns he had bought from 8-Ball. He didn't plan on using all of them today, most of them would be saved. He found the case he was after and withdrew two micro uzis from it. After that, he stuffed as many extra clips as he could fit in his jacket pockets. Before exiting the vehicle, he picked up the case of grenades. He was careful to cover the top of the box so no one would see them.

After assuring himself that he had everything he needed, he began the walk towards the mansion. In minutes he was standing outside of the gates. He was surprised to find the gates wide open, he wondered if anyone had even discovered the bodies that adorned the inside of the mansion. After walking through the gates, he set the case of grenades down on the ground.

The grounds were eerily quiet. The large house loomed in front of Tommy ominously, challenging him to come inside for the inevitable showdown. He looked down at the grenades, and then back up at the mansion. Something caught Tommy's eyes at the window at the right side of the third floor.

"Holy shit..." Tommy mumbled.

Leaning against the window seal and looking straight down at him, was The Boss. His face was almost a smirk. The figure took a step backwards and was instantly gone from Tommy's view. Tommy yelled in anger to himself and reached down for a grenade.

"Mute motherfucker!" Tommy yelled as he hurled the bomb at the window that The Boss had formerly inhabitated.

The 'pineapple' passed right through the glass, shattering it instantly. Tommy didn't hesitate to lob another grenade into the window directly to the left of the previous one. He continued the process until each window had a grenade in it. The first one detonated, the entire room erupted into a blazing inferno. Following that, each grenade detonated, until all 8 rooms were demolished. Smoke billowed in torrents out of the ruined windows. Quickly Tommy tore his uzis from his jacket and made his way to the door.

With a fierce kick, Tommy knocked the front door open with great force. The sight before him was twisted, Tommy began to wonder if this mystery man was fully human or not. Lined up against the wall to his right was everybody who had died during his last visit to the mansion. Their eyes stared at Tommy in that all too familiar stare. Tommy turned his head straight ahead as he heard the shuffling of feet running down the stairs.

"So the fun begins.." Tommy murmured as he kneeled to the ground and trained his uzis at the bottom of the stairs.

Two men in black suits complete with black ties and sunglasses reached the bottom of the stairs, armed with .45s. Tommy immediately squeezed both triggers and let loose a flurry of bullets at the guards' direction. A line of death formed on the first guard's white dress shirt that lay underneath his suit jacket, each red hole that formed the line began spreading larger until the shirt was soaked. He slumped backwards, very much dead. The other immediately began firing his .45. Quickly Tommy darted to his right, he held his uzis sideways and kept the trigger pressed down. The guard made a similar attempt to get out of the way, he, however, wasn't as fast asTommy. The bullets collided with his side and threw him sideways. His body rolled a couple times and came to a stop, motionless.

Quickly Tommy stood up and slammed new clips into his guns. He heard more shuffling upstairs as he dashed towards the stairs. At the top were more guards dressed in a way similar to the dead ones downstairs.

"At least this group has style." Tommy laughed to himself as he caused the two guards at the top of the stairs to meet the same fate as the ones downstairs.

Tommy continued up the stairs. As he reached the top he immediately dove forward as guards to both sides of him let loose a flurry of slugs. Most of them narrowly missed him, but one caught his upper thigh. He winced but that didn't stop him from spinning around and silencing two more of the sharply dressed men. The two to the right were both very heavy set, Tommy wondered how they got hired as guards. His question was answered immediately as the surprisingly quick fat man to the left leaned sideways to avoid some bullets that Tommy had sent his way. Heavy set proceeded to fire his dual .45s at Tommy. Tommy rolled to the side and unloaded the rest of his clip, the man's body jigged as the bullet ripped through it. The remaining man fumbled for his gun and shakily aimed at Tommy. He fired, hitting Tommy squarely in the shoulder. The force spun Tommy around, in one fluid movement he ripped his own .45 from his shoulder holster and had it aimed at the guard's face by the time he faced him again.

BLAM!

It took a single bullet to silence him forever. Tommy shakily stood up and glanced at his bleeding shoulder. The bullet had gone right through. The mansion grew silent once again. Tommy stood up and searched for more stairs, not taking time to look thoroughly in the rooms or even examine the mansion's features. Tommy finally came upon the set of stairs that led to the third floor. He walked up them and found himself in a dark cloud of smoke. He could barely see. He made his way through the place nevertheless, looking for the mute.

Tommy searched every room, struggling to stay conscious against the think smoke. He could barely see through it, but good enough to determine whether or not someone was in the room.

He kicked in a door to another office like room and stopped in his tracks when he saw what he was looking for. Sitting at the desk in front of him, as smugly as ever , was the mute. Tommy looked down at his hands, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Tommy backed up and dove to the side of the mute fired a shotgun blast from his spas 12 right in Tommy's direction. A single pellet caught Tommy in the stomach, the rest caught only air. Tommy stumbled and fell backwards, the result of a coughing attack brought on by all the smoke. Tommy could barely make out the figure of the mute walking casually out of the office, searching the room with his eyes and the barrel of his shotgun. Tommy raised his .45 and pulled the trigger twice. Before the bullet even escaped the chamber, the mute dashed forward. The bullet flew past him quickly. The mute spun around aimed the shotgun at Tommy's crouching body. Tommy dove to the side as the blast shattered a huge vase behind him. He quickly aimed his sidearm and fired again. Somehow the bullets missed, the mute stood still.

Tommy dashed to the left, hoping the mute wouldn't see him through the smoke. He wasn't spotted, he was heard. The mute immediately sent another shotgun shell at Tommy. The pellets went right over Tommy as he threw himself to the floor to get out of the way. A large hole was blasted into the wall as a result of the buckshot.

Tommy rolled over twice and regained his footing. Swiftly he lined the barrel up with the heaving chest of the mute and fired. The mute was almost completely invisible now, but Tommy could get a good enough view to grasp his general direction. He saw the figure's left side jerk backwards and then spin around. The mute hit the ground hard. Tommy smiled as he watched him go down. His smile faded as the mute sat up in a lightning fast manner, shotgun aimed at Tommy's chest.

"Shit!" Tommy threw himself to the left and reached for his uzi.

As he hit the ground, he lost his grip on the machine pistol and it skidded across the floor and out of reach. He grasped inside his jacket for another clip to put in his .45. At least he found one and shoved it up into the gun, by now he'd lost track of where the mute was completely. Tommy was 98 blinded, he could barely make out the walls. He crept slowly forward, his gun held out in front of him. Then he heard a single footstep behind him. Quickly he spun around and fired off several blind shots. He hadn't a clue if he had hit something or not.

He began coughing again, so much so that he couldn't breath. He frantically searched for a window so he could find some fresh air. As he was running, he felt his food come down on something. He stumbled and tripped, landing hard on his face. He rolled over to face upwards, his gun pointed up at anything that might be there. He saw nothing. Blindly, he searched the floor with his hands to find the object he'd tripped over. His hands fell upon a familiar metal object, the mute's shotgun. He jerked it off the floor and checked the shells, empty. He threw the useless thing to the ground and continued his search for a window.

He rammed into a door, using his shoulder as a battering ram. The door swung open. Tommy ran to the open window in front of him and stuck his head out. He gasped as he let the fresh air fill his lungs. He dared not stay long, quickly he turned around and continued his search for the mute.

"SHIT!" Tommy screamed as he saw the mute standing in the doorway, aiming an M4 assault rifle at him.

He ducked and ran to the side. The bullets flew at him, narrowly missing his head. His ears starting ringing and he was totally deafened. Quickly he searched the room with his eyes for the dark silhouette of the mute. In a quick motion he aimed his gun at him and fired until his clip was empty. Tommy fell to his knees and crawled along the floor, taking cover while he struggled to find a new clip. There were none, he was out.

He spotted the mute again, by this time he had worked his way to the front of the window. Tommy stood up and looked him in the eyes in rage.

"This is my town!" Tommy snarled, "This was ALWAYS my town!"

The mute raised the barrel of the M4 and prepared to fire. Tommy lunged violently at him and dove. He heard the gun go off and a tremendous force slam into his gut. His adrenaline drowned out the pain as he wrestled with the mute. The mute was very strong as he landed a harsh blow on Tommy's face. Tommy grabbed the mute's face and pressed his thumbs into his enemie's eye sockets. The mute swung at Tommy again. Tommy ducked and groped for the M4. He snatched it off the floor and stood up. Swiftly he swung it like a baseball bat. The barrel hit the mute right in his right temple with a loud 'thud'. The mute staggered back in a daze, Tommy swung again. Again the weapon met it's target. Tommy took a step back, readied the M4, and squeezed the trigger. 34 bullets exploded out of the barrel, one after another, straight into the mute's chest. His stomach was ripped open and his blood painted Tommy's face red as it spewed out.

The gun finally clicked, telling Tommy that it was empty. He threw it to the ground and returned his glance to the mute, who was staring down at his stomach in shock. He staggered backwards, getting dangerously close to the open window. Tommy took a few steps until he was inches away from the mute's face. He drew back his fist and then laid a fierce blow across the mute's face. His head snapped backwards and he flipped over the window sill. Tommy watched as he rapidly sped towards the ground, and then landed with an audible cracking sound. The mute was nothing but a corpse. A pool of his blood gathered around him and soaked his leather jacket.

Tommy took a few deep breaths before turning around and making his way back to the front door of the mansion. He stood there for a few seconds, staring at the mystery man's battered corpse. Tommy touched a hand softly to his face, feeling the droplets of blood that covered his face. He grimaced and began the short trip back to his car. He winced as he put weight on his injured leg.

But the pain wasn't as strong as the feeling of victory. Obviously this guy had been around for awhile, obviously no one had ever been able to take him out. Tommy however, was successful.

He looked up in front of him, he was almost at his car. Slowly he approached the door and reached for the handle when, suddenly, he heard the sound of many guns being cocked and readied. Quickly Tommy tried to enter his car, but he wasn't fast enough. Several shots rung out in rapid succession, obviously an automatic weapon. Tommy snapped back quickly to avoid any bullets that might come his way, his back met harshly with the side of the car.

Tommy looked around and saw several african american males walking towards him in a semi circle. Each one was wearing a purple sweatshirt with some gang logo sewed into it. They each had backwards baseball caps on their head, and each one was armed with an uzi.

"You been wiping out gangs all week." One of them said, presumably the leader of the group, "You forgot one. The purple nines, fool."

Tommy began to talk, but a white hot pain erupted in his chest as he began. He brought his eyes down to his chest slowly. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened with horror as he saw a diagonal line of red holes starting from the left side of his chest, down to the right side of his lower gut. A rattling sound formed in his throat as he struggled to breath.

"You gotta understand man, you can't win in Liberty. Sooner or later, you'll end up just like all those guys you capped. But I'm smart ya see, I don't try to take over. I stick to my own place and just enjoy what I can get. Because I know that eventually I'm gonna end up just like you."

Tommy gasped for breath, but managed to get a few words out, "Go to hell."

The purple nine laughed and took some steps back. The banger raised the barrel of his smoking uzi and fired a few more shots. Tommy felt all of the bullets slam into his chest. Laughter eminated from the gang as they turned around and began walking away.

"Fucking bangers... Gang bangers..." Tommy lifted a weak hand to his chest, another sharp pain surged through his torso, "Oh shit..."

He slid slowly down the side of the car, leaving a dark crimson trail to stain the dark green paint job. He came to a stop, in a propped up position.

Sitting up against that car, in the middle of the projects of Shoreside Vale, the last bit of life slipped away from Tommy Vercetti. He had reclaimed the crown, only to have it savagely snatched away from him. During his last seconds of life he heard sirens approaching.

His body went limp and he fell over. Dead.

-----------------------------

Dun dun dunnn.. the end. Yeah.. I think this story is really bad, but I felt obligated to finish it nonetheless, so I hoped you enjoyed the ending.


End file.
